WHAT place so strange,--though unrevealed snow With unimaginable fires arise At the earth's end,--what passion of surprise Like frost-bound fire-girt scenes of long ago? Lo! this is none but I this hour; and lo! This is the very place which to mine eyes Those mortal hours in vain immortalize, 'Mid hurrying crowds, with what alone I know. City, of thine a single simple door, By some new Power reduplicate, must be Even yet my life-porch in eternity, Even with one presence filled, as once of yore: Or mocking winds whirl round a chaff-strown floor Thee and thy years and these my words and me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO W.P.: 3 by GEORGE SANTAYANA JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BALLAD OF THE WOMEN OF PARIS by FRANCOIS VILLON LONDON SURVEYED AND ILLUSTRATED by JOHANNEM ADAMUS PSALM 5. VERBA MEA AURIBUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |